


Cheer Up, Please?

by GoldSparrow



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur - Freeform, Arthur wants to cheer up Merlin, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Merlin - Freeform, Sad Merlin (Merlin), but he's emotionally constipated, knights of the round table - Freeform, quiet merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21802255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldSparrow/pseuds/GoldSparrow
Summary: It’s been a few weeks since the Great Dragon’s release and Balinor’s death, and Merlin has been unexpectedly quiet lately. (A story in which Arthur sees a quiet Merlin and attempts to fix him while internally cursing himself for being so bad at touchy-feely things)
Relationships: Knights of the Round Table & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 160





	Cheer Up, Please?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm alive! Needed some comfort/human interaction but I wrote this instead!  
> Hope you like!

Cheers erupted from the grassy forest clearing. Knights stood in a group watching on as two men danced about in front of them with swords drawn.

Percival laughed as he threw a swipe at Gwaine with his sword, and caught a slice of Gwaine’s hair as the knight narrowly ducked.

"You almost beheaded me!"

"Ah, would have only been a small flesh wound," Percival mocks.

Gwaine laughs heartily and goes in for a thrust and several hits. Percival backs up at his advances, but easily deflects each blow with a wide sweeping block. The big man was playing with him, thought the rogue. Grinning at Percival’s confidence, Gwaine maneuvers a quick wrap around of Percival’s sword and throws it out of the giant’s hands. Arthur, Elyan, Leon and Lancelot ooh and ahh, snickering. 

"Aha! Yield!" Gwaine says as he points his sword toward the unarmed soldier.

Percival's eyes grow wide in surprise, but then smirks widely as he rushes Gwaine and tackles the grunting man onto the grassy floor. The men tumble and begin a (be it unequally matched) wrestling match. Arthur, Leon, Lancelot, Elyan and several other knights hoot and holler as they begin taking bets on the winner.

Arthur laughs at Gwaine’s struggling to wrap his hands around Percivals' neck, and is just about to exchange a bet with Elyan on Percival when he looks around for the one who always seemed to have an uncanny luck for winning bets, but pulls a face. That young man was nowhere to be found. With furrowed brows he searches around the clearing and finds his manservant sitting on a stump at the edge of the forest clearing under a tree’s shadow, head down and concentrated on something. 

Arthur frowns. 

The prince casually walks up the small incline where his manservant sat, nonchalantly leaning against a tree a few feet away from the young man. Despite recognizing his master’s appearance, Merlin kept his head down, focusing on and turning something over again and again in his hands.

After a few moments of silence, Arthur conspicuously peers over Merlin’s shoulder, curious what was so important as to hold his attention. To his surprise, he caught the small glint of a metal knife whittling away shards of wood from a stout branch in the young man’s hands. Quite awed despite himself, the prince watches for a while as the branch began to take form. It looked like a deformed horse with stubby protrusions coming out of its back.

"Whittling? That’s new. Never took you as an artisan Merlin."

"Just a hobby I picked up from someone." Merlin says with silent contentment and a small grin.

Arthur uncomfortably crosses his arms and troubles his lip for a moment.

"You’ve…been a bit more quiet lately."

Merlin shrugged. "Just a little tired I suppose." Both men go silent.

"Been hitting the tavern too hard have you?"

Merlin chuckles wistfully. "You know me all too well sire," Merlin says, eyes still on his work. 

Arthur frowns. 

"You know…you, you haven’t been acting quite like yourself, you haven't seemed... _happy_ for the last few weeks." Arthur internally curses himself. 

"What?" For the first time, Merlin looks up from his whittling. 

Arthur’s insides wriggle at the the thought of explaining himself further. "You, you know, you haven’t been smiling as much, or sending witty comebacks, or even complaining…which I would normally say is an improvement, but, that and you've been sighing just about every other minute—If I didn’t know what a schlub you were I would maybe suspect there was a girl involved—" Arthur caught a glance of Merlin’s confused yet growingly entertained face. Arthur reddened, then went silent. _Where was Merlin when you needed to cheer someone up? Oh wait.._

Merlin smiles widely at Arthur, "Nothing’s wrong, really."

Arthur just about believes him and begins to smile back, when he notices a small reflection of something contradictory behind Merlin’s eyes…Pain? Guilt? Whatever it was, he didn’t like that his manservant…his friend was feeling it.

"Next time I’ll…go to the tavern with you." Arthur blurts.

"Wait, what?"

"Who are you kidding Merlin, even with as much as you go to the tavern I know that you still can barely hold your liquor—how you’ve been able to find your way back to Gaias' after every nightly round is honestly a miracle! Someone needs to be sober enough to make sure you don’t get into any more trouble on the way back than what you normally get into—"

Catching himself, Arthur reddens further and continues, "The only reason I would be there is to make sure you are fit enough to muck up my stables the next day Merlin, seriously, having a incessantly inebriated servant is unacceptable, I—"

Before he could finish, Merlin says softly, "Thanks, Arthur."

Merlin smiles, a new warmth radiating from his face like that of a summer sun, this time, thankfully, without whatever Arthur had seen before.

Arthur grins ear to ear with a sense of accomplishment before becoming self-conscious, quickly schooling his expression more serious-like. Turning his eyes away from his servant, Arthur stammers, "We—we’ll stop by the Rising Sun on our way back. I’ll buy you a pint."

"Wow! That’s generous of you Princess!"

"Gwaine!" Arthur jumps back, not having noticed the man right behind him.

"Who said _you_ were invited?" 

"Aren’t I always?" Gwaine smiles.

"Did I just hear something about a tavern party?" Elyan exclaims as he runs over.

"I think I overheard that the prince is paying for us..." Leon states.

"Thank you sire."

"I didn’t say that!"

"You didn’t _not_ say that Arthur."

"You stay out of this Merlin!"

"Thanks for your generosity princess, your kindness will not go unforgotten."

"You won’t be getting any more pints from me, Gwaine! I think I’ve paid for more than enough of your tavern escapades, you bleeding leech! Honestly, you’re worse than Merlin!"

**END**

**Author's Note:**

> Second thoughts after writing this thing: "Wow, I totally made Arthur a Tsundere"
> 
> And yes, Merlin was attempting to make a dragon--hope that was catchable *cries due to Balinor/Merlin feels*


End file.
